


stupid excuses

by zhujungjungting (runswithchopsticks)



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Crack, Face-Sitting, Hand Jobs, Humor, I'm in hell what happened, M/M, Ong is so dumb, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Slight Voyeurism, usage of the word "gay" a lot but it's not in a bad context I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runswithchopsticks/pseuds/zhujungjungting
Summary: It's not gay if it's a brojob.





	stupid excuses

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! Hey, prompter!  
> Uh, this prompt was one HELL of a ride. I know you (probably?) expected something short and like... totally only brojobs but like, this spiralled COMPLETELY out of control. Nonetheless, I hope you'll enjoy reading this -- I laughed a little too much trying to write it, and now I think my face is stuck in a permanent clown grin.

“What the fuck are you doing, hyung?”

Jisung turns around. “Oh, hi!” he greets, cheerily, his palms still pressed against the wood of the door. Daniel stands in front of him, one hand resting on the handle of the vacuum ( _What is he doing with the vacuum?_ Jisung thinks, _Isn’t that Minhyun’s hobby?_ ), the other on his hip as he stands there with an eyebrow crooked. “Not much,” Jisung hums, and presses his ear back against the door.

Daniel’s eyebrow raises even farther. At this point, it might as well become part of his hairline. “Isn’t that Seongwoo’s room?” he asks, critically.

Jisung nods as a response. “Come hear, Niel,” he murmurs, gesturing at Daniel with a hand.

Daniel just grows even more suspicious, but with the way Jisung is smiling at him, how could he say no? It must be something interesting, he thinks. When he walks over, Jisung sits down on the floor, making room for the new addition against the door. Daniel rests a palm on the wood, pressing his ear against the cool surface. He waits for a few moments. And then, the next second, he whispers, “What the fuck?” He shakes his head, his hair brushing against the door as his face contorts into some expression that mirrors exactly what he just said.

Jisung nearly laughs. At that moment, Jaehwan stalks over, a sandwich held in his hand. When he speaks, a piece of meat falls out of his mouth.

“What are you two doing?”

“Spying?” Daniel says, and he places an index finger over his mouth. “Be quiet.”

“It’s not ‘spying’, Niel!” Jisung harshly whispers, “We are simply observing.”

“Whatever,” Jaehwan replies, rolling his eyes. He takes a bite out of his sandwich, and a piece of lettuce falls onto the carpet. “Isn’t that Seongwoo-hyung’s room?” he notes.

Jisung nods, a smile returning to his lips. “Do you want to hear, Jaehwan?” he asks.

“Sure,” Jaehwan murmurs through a mouthful of sandwich. He crouches down, standing on his knees, and leans over Daniel and Jisung as he presses his ear to the door. “Oh wow,” he comments a second later, still chewing. Daniel feels a piece of soggy bread fall in his hair, and he mentally takes note to eat his next meal while hovering over Jaehwan’s head.

“That’s interesting,” Jaehwan adds, his voice as bored as ever, and both Jisung and Daniel don’t know if he’s being serious -- yet, he still stays there, crouched against the door next to them.

At that moment, Minhyun walks by. He sees the vacuum parked in the hallway, and he grabs the handle, lifting the device onto its rear wheels and proceeding to roll it away. But as he passes the small gathering at the door, he raises his eyebrows, silently stating that he’ll be back in a bit.

And that’s how it starts. Minhyun ends up joining the little pile of three, standing up and hovering over all of them (he’s long enough, anyways) with an ear pressed against the door. Sungwoon appears a minute later, curious as to what is so interesting about his and Seongwoo’s room that’s enough to garner a little fiesta (he even calls it a “fiesta”). He basically has to sit on top of Daniel with his knees in order to hear, but Daniel doesn’t mind, he’s much too focused on what’s happening on the other side of the door.

Sungwoon later stands up when a little trio consisting of Jinyoung, Woojin, and Daehwi appears down the hallway. Guanlin is trailing behind them with bags of snacks in his arms, piled up high to his nose -- they probably just returned from the pantry, Sungwoon thinks.

“What are you guys doing?” Daehwi asks, placing his hands on his hips.

“Shoo, shoo,” Sungwoon whispers, waving at the boys with his hands, “this is not something for kids--”

“Hyung, I am nearly nineteen,” Woojin replies, crossing his arms. “Why are all of you guys gathered at your and Seongwoo-hyung’s door?”

Sungwoon doesn’t even bother to give an answer, he just grabs arms and hands and pulls all of the boys with him into the living room. Daniel hears him put on his nice hyung voice and say, “Hyung will make you guys chips and guacamole later, don’t you worry. Enjoy your movie, okay?” He returns a minute later, having succeeded at charming the boys, and resumes his previous position with an ear against the door.

“Wait,” Minhyun whispers, and the rest of the crowd around him all glance up at him. “There’s Seongwoo in there, but who else?”

“Do you even need to ask--” Daniel begins, but Jaehwan interrupts him.

“Well, who are we missing?”

Sungwoon glances around him, because he’s the one in the middle. Looking down, there’s Daniel’s face staring up at him, a little too close for comfort. To his left, there is Jisung. To his right, there is Jaehwan. Right above him, there is Minhyun. “There’s five of us here. We just saw Woojin, Jinyoung, Daehwi, and Guanlin, so that makes nine. Seongwoo is in there, and that’s ten… and--” he furrows his brows. The next moment, Minhyun’s jaw drops.

“Oh--” he murmurs, “we’re missing--”

Both Minhyun and Sungwoon’s eyes widen as the realization hits them. “Ji--” they begin, but at the same moment, the door opens with a click. There’s a sudden thud as all five boys that’d been against the door fall to the ground, and Sungwoon hears a _thump!_ followed by a “Holy fuck-a-moly!” that could only have come from Jaehwan. Sungwoon would turn his head and offer a comment of concern, but Minhyun’s shin is digging into his back, pinning him to the ground.

Besides Jaehwan’s cursing, there’s no other noise -- they’re all too focused on the formidable stare of the person standing in front of them, his expression flat and steely, and it’s a little bit terrifying, because Sungwoon has never seen him look that serious. His arms are crossed, and the toes of his right foot are raised up in the air. He raises an eyebrow at the pile of boys at his feet.

Sungwoon stares up, gulping. There is nothing but thick silence in the air.

But it is broken the moment later by a shrill wail.

“What the fuck, hyung, you could’ve at least waited for me to finish putting my pants on!”

Sungwoon plants his face into the carpet. Yup, that’s Jihoon alright.

Seongwoo just brushes right over Jihoon’s complaint. “I thought I heard noises,” he states, staring down at his bandmates. “Seriously, why the hell were you guys trying to eavesdrop on me?” And then a sly smile creeps across his face. Daniel likes Seongwoo, they are good friends, but at the moment, he thinks his friend resembles something like the Joker.

“Don’t tell me that you guys were getting off on--”

“You’re so fucking gay,” Jaehwan interrupts, his voice flat.

“ _What_?!” Seongwoo splutters, and he rubs his face with his palms. “Says you, the person that was _eavesdropping_!”

“The noises you make are so gay,” Jaehwan continues. There's a choking noise from his general direction, and Sungwoon has to nearly break his neck to turn his head because Minhyun's weight on him gives his upper body little leeway in terms of movement.

Jaehwan has an elbow planted on Daniel's head. He leans on that arm, propping himself up to stare at Seongwoo, and poor Daniel is eating the carpet. At this rate, Minhyun won't have to vacuum later in the week.

“It's hilarious,” Jaehwan adds, and he grins. “Who wouldn't eavesdrop? I didn't know your voice could get that whiny--”

“How am I going to get out and go get some yogurt when there's this mess in front of the door?” Jihoon interrupts, grumbling, having suddenly appeared at Seongwoo's side. He pokes a toe at Jaehwan’s forehead, the latter who promptly tries to swat the foot away, but Jihoon just ends up stepping on his upper back and walking away.

“Do you really think my voice can go that high,” Seongwoo deadpans, his expression flat.

A look of acute realization settles over Jaehwan's face; however, the grin he'd had on quickly resumes its position on his lips. “I forgot to say,” he begins, and Seongwoo thinks his voice is too slimy for his own good, “ _Jihoon,_ hyung? Gay. Both of you.”

Seongwoo rolls his eyes. “I was just helping him,” he replies casually, “being a nice hyung. And besides, he likes me.”

“'Helping’?” Jaehwan raises an eyebrow. “And when are you ever nice? We're not stupid, hyung, we know you've been eyeing Jihoon with googly eyes ever since you first met him. Very gay indeed. When is the marriage announcement?”

“Like I said, I was _helping,_ ” Seongwoo reiterates, “it's not gay if it's a brojob.”

“What the fuck,” Minhyun begins. Finally, someone besides Jaehwan speaks. Seongwoo was getting irritated by Jaehwan's slimy voice and face. “A ‘ _brojob’_?” Minhyun continues. “That's the worst excuse I've ever heard from someone, Seongwoo, and remember that we live with _Jaehwan_ and _Daniel._ ”

There's sudden sputtering noises from both Jaehwan and his armrest, but Minhyun speaks over them anyways. “I wouldn't classify dick sucking and hand jobs under bro activities, but if that floats your boat, then whatever. I'm quite sure Jihoon likes floating on your boat anyways.”

“Gay,” Jaehwan whispers, and Seongwoo is about to kick Jaehwan in the head and slam the door in Minhyun's face, but he needs to make one thing clear.

“They're _brojobs_ , and I haven't done anything that involves ass!”

“Did you hear that?” Jaehwan asks, glancing up at Minhyun. “He says he _hasn't,_ not _he won't._ That means it'll happen in the future, doesn't it?”

Minhyun returns Jaehwan’s stare and nods solemnly. “We can only wait,” he replies, his voice somber.

At that moment, Jihoon reappears, a carton of yogurt in one of his hands. “I think you guys should stop trying to clean the floor with your faces and bodies,” he says, pointedly. “Move over, I left my slippers in there.”

“Did you hear?” Jaehwan whispers. “He left his slippers in there. They've practically already moved in together.”

Seongwoo grits his teeth, and he's really about to kick Jaehwan in the face now, but Jihoon reappears momentarily. “I think Sungwoon-hyung and Daniel-hyung are passed out,” he points out. “Minhyun-hyung is too big, and Jaehwan-hyung, you are literally digging Daniel-hyung’s face into the carpet.”

Jisung is suddenly sent into a frenzy when he notices that both Sungwoon and Daniel are indeed deathly silent and immobile. Seongwoo smiles and quietly slips out of his room as Jisung verbally assaults Jaehwan and Minhyun. He meets Jihoon out in the kitchen.

“So,” Jihoon begins, spooning yogurt into his mouth. “When can I switch rooms with Sungwoon-hyung? I'm sure he would like to room with Jaehwan-hyung. I can't stand Jaehwan-hyung, he whines too much in his sleep.”

“I’ll talk to Sungwoon-hyung about that tomorrow,” Seongwoo replies. Jihoon scoops another spoonful of yogurt and pokes at Seongwoo's lips with it. Seongwoo immediately opens his mouth and eats.

“Gay!” Jaehwan shouts, until he is promptly attacked by Jisung and dragged back down the hallway.

* * *

“ _Hyung--_ ”

Seongwoo suddenly sits up, and to his dismay, he crashes his forehead into something very hard. “What the f--” he begins, wincing, but there’s a palm on his mouth the moment after. His head now hurts a fuck ton, and combined with the fact that he was just very unceremoniously woken up from a nice dream--Daniel was buying him a latte, and that’s the nicest thing that bastard has ever done for him--he’s pissed and he can’t see anything but white.

After blinking rapidly for a few seconds to clear his eyes, Jihoon’s face enters his vision. “Be quiet,” Jihoon whispers, and he briefly glances over to his right, “Sungwoon-hyung is still sleeping.”

Seongwoo just sits there, his expression flat, and Jihoon slowly lowers his hand. “Your hand is real fucking salty,” Seongwoo states.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Thanks,” he murmurs.

Seongwoo takes a moment to properly assess the situation. Just as Jihoon said, Sungwoon is still snoring away in the bed to his left. And staring straight at him while sitting on his thighs is Jihoon with Seongwoo’s blanket draped over his head. The room is still dark, and the alarm hasn’t gone off yet.

“Oh my god,” Seongwoo hisses, “you woke me up early, how _dare you_. What the hell do you want? And how did you even get in here?” How the hell did Jihoon shimmy his way underneath the covers without Seongwoo even noticing a single thing?

Jihoon just rolls his eyes again, and the second after, a smirk appears on his face. “You sleep like a rock,” he replies, and then adds, underneath his breath, “your head is as hard as a rock too.” When Seongwoo opens his mouth to protest, Jihoon just shakes his head and continues. “Besides, we don’t have any free time today. We’re down at the studio until evening. So I figured--” and then he leans forward, until he and Seongwoo are bumping noses, “--we might as well get it done early.”

At those eight words, Seongwoo smiles. Well, if Jihoon woke him up for some morning brojob shenanigans, he might as well. After all, sex is supposedly better than coffee, right?  
He doesn’t even need to say anything, because Jihoon’s already got his hand on Seongwoo’s wrist, pushing Seongwoo's hand down past the waistband of his pajama pants -- he probably knew Seongwoo was going to say yes, anyway, since who wouldn’t?

The first thing Seongwoo immediately does is wrap his hand around Jihoon’s dick, and Jihoon falls forward, his forehead resting on Seongwoo’s shoulder. Seongwoo sees Jihoon’s fingers dig into the sheets next to him, and he smiles. Jihoon is already half-hard from the anticipation. It only takes a few strokes until he’s fully hard. His hips rut against Seongwoo’s own bulge, and Seongwoo’s breath hitches.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Jihoon whispers, in his ear, and he leans forward, licking at the spot right beneath Seongwoo’s earlobe.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Seongwoo mutters under his breath. Jihoon’s mouth is so wet and so hot, his lips and teeth working at the sensitive and thin skin on Seongwoo’s neck. “Don’t leave marks,” he hisses, and he feels Jihoon smile against his neck. He’s probably going to leave marks, Seongwoo realizes, but at the moment, he can’t care.

He squeezes his palm around Jihoon’s cock, and Jihoon bites down harshly, muffling the noises he makes in Seongwoo’s skin. Seongwoo moves his hand, stroking slowly, the pressure from the grip of his hand tight, and when he makes it to the tip of Jihoon’s dick, he digs his thumb into the slit, feeling the bead of precum there and spreading it all over the head. Jihoon shifts, his hips moving erratically with Seongwoo’s strokes. “ _Hyung_ ,” he whispers again, and his voice is so breathy, so lust-filled, that Seongwoo has to bite back his own groan.

Seongwoo encircles his index finger and thumb around the girth of Jihoon’s cock and gives it a sharp squeeze. Jihoon’s breath hitches, and his fingers are now clawing into the sheets as he pants against Seongwoo’s neck. The breaths he takes are rushed and shallow, and Seongwoo smirks.

“God,” Jihoon whispers, and the rutting of his hips is becoming more erratic. Seongwoo keeps his hand still, his fingers still encircled around Jihoon’s cock. The boy begins to thrust into the ring created by Seongwoo’s hand, his movements rushed.

Seongwoo feels Jihoon plant another wet kiss on the side of his neck. Jihoon is basically drooling at this point, his lips soaked as he mouths around on Seongwoo’s neck, his hips shaking with his movements. With each thrust, he brushes against Seongwoo’s erection, and Seongwoo’s head falls forward, because the stimulation is so pleasing, tempting him to rut his own hips back.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Jihoon whispers in Seongwoo’s ear, his voice wet, “ _Seongwoo-hyung_ \--” Seongwoo hears the pitching in his voice, and Jihoon’s thrusts into his hand are becoming more and more uncontrolled, his hips spiraling in odd jerky movements that Seongwoo thinks would look absolutely hot if he were watching from behind. “ _Hyung_ \--” Jihoon whispers again, and his head falls. He squeezes his eyes shut as the coil in his abdomen becomes tighter and tighter--

“Oh my fucking god!”

Both Seongwoo and Jihoon nearly jump a meter in the air.

“What the fuck, are you _jerking off Jihoon under your blanket?_ ” Sungwoon asks.

“Yeah,” Seongwoo replies, nonchalantly. “So what?”

Sungwoon makes a retching noise. “Jisung!” he shouts, before clumsily running out of the room -- he nearly trips in an attempt to clamor out of his bed, as the sheets had twisted around his legs. “They’re at it again! I swear to fucking god, please let me change rooms--”

Seongwoo is slapped in the face with a palm. “What the fuck?!” he exclaims.

Jihoon glares at him. “Focus on _me_ ,” he hisses, “ignore Sungwoon-hyung.”

Seongwoo rolls his eyes. Whatever. He’ll punish Jihoon by dragging this out longer so he suffers.

* * *

“Can you guys like, maybe not give each other handjobs while Sungwoon is sleeping?” Jisung asks. “Or like, just not when Sungwoon is _in the room_?” He silently adds, _Or just not give each other handjobs in the first place?  These fucking kids and their inane sex drive._

“What happened to Sungwoon-hyung and I switching rooms?” Jihoon asks. Seongwoo nods. Jihoon’s asking the important questions here.

“Manager,” Jisung hums. He shakes his head slowly. “I’d let you two, but like, the manager doesn’t want to because of some roster complications or whatever.” _Unfortunately,_ Jisung silently adds. “So, yeah, can you guys please, uh, just do it _when Sungwoon is not in the room_?” Jisung can’t even believe the words are coming out of his own mouth. He feels like he’s lecturing a pair of kids on the dangers of accepting a ride home from a strange guy with a van and a handful of candy.

“Okay, sure,” Jihoon replies casually, and Seongwoo nods.

“Thanks,” Jisung says. He smiles amiably, and pats the two on their shoulders. When he walks out of the kitchen, he finds Daniel leaning casually against the wall.

“They’re still going to do it, you know,” Daniel notes. He chews on a granola bar as he speaks.

Jisung shrugs. “How do you know?”

“Seongwoo tells me shit,” Daniel hums through a mouthful of oats, “he’s definitely gay for Jihoon, at this point it’s not even just his dumb ass being horny.”

Jisung snorts. “Alright,” he mutters, “but I trust those two, and you should too. Besides, they _do_ need to listen to their own leader.”

“Sure,” Daniel murmurs. He nods jokingly.

“I can’t believe you’re selling out your best friend,” Jisung states, with a laugh.

“Isn’t that what best friends are for?” Daniel replies. He finishes his granola bar and crumples the wrapper up, tucking it in the pocket of his sweatpants. “We throw each other under the bus at the right times.”

Jisung snorts, turning away. Whatever Daniel’s definition of “the right time” is, he doesn’t know. Daniel’s probably being an ass, like he always is, and it’s about Jisung’s time to go start lunch -- last time when it was his turn to do so, he forgot, and Jaehwan was so desperately hungry that he ended up eating a head of napa _without even washing it_. Jisung can’t afford to have one of their main vocals ending up with strep throat or e coli (because really, that’s the only use he sees for Jaehwan -- Sungwoon is getting old, and he can’t do _all_ the adlibs and high notes in a song).

* * *

Jisung told them they couldn’t give each other handjobs with Sungwoon (or anyone else, really) in the room, so what’s the next thing you can do with your hands?

Seongwoo doesn’t even know how it happened, since the last thing he can immediately recall was Jihoon’s mouth on his dick, and the next thing he knows he’s got the kid wriggling around in his lap while trying to tug his pajama pants off -- “Wow, fuck this, I’m gone, bye,” Sungwoon had immediately said, when he saw Jihoon’s head pop up from underneath the blankets (Seongwoo is inwardly proud, because he has good enough self-control that Sungwoon didn’t even notice Jihoon sucking him off).

And now, Seongwoo’s got one finger up Jihoon’s ass, prodding against the latter’s rim with the intent to add another one, watching Jihoon shift around the foreign feeling -- slightly painful, terribly good, and mildly burning, because they’ve got nothing but Jihoon’s own saliva as a sort of lubricant. Seongwoo even offered to go and get that bottle of lube in Daniel and Jisung’s room (for some reason, it’s birthday cake flavor and always sits on Daniel’s nightstand -- _what a bottom bitch_ , Seongwoo thinks) so that Jihoon would feel more comfortable, but the kid just shut him up with a wet mouth sucking on his upper lip and a, “Hurry the fuck up,” whispered harshly in his ear.

So Seongwoo just pokes in another finger, and Jihoon eagerly sits on it, moaning wetly in his ear -- Seongwoo thinks it’s one of the best sounds he’s ever heard, better than anything in any porno he’s ever watched. “Have you ever had someone finger you?” he asks.

“No,” Jihoon replies. Seongwoo opens his mouth, about to ask how the hell Jihoon is taking this so easily; for pete’s sake, Seongwoo’s got his _fingers_ in Jihoon’s _ass_ \-- for any normal person, would that first time not send alarm bells ringing through their head? Would they not want to take it nice and slow? Seongwoo feels like the current situation is something straight out of porn -- _Jihoon’s such a hoe_ , he thinks, _I like it._

“Except for my own,” Jihoon adds. Seongwoo is suddenly hit with the imagery of Jihoon on his elbows and knees, one hand reaching around to slide a finger into himself -- _yeaaaaah boy_ , Seongwoo silently thinks, and a lewd smile appears on his lips.

Jihoon notices his reaction, and a sly grin adorns his expression. “And you know what?” he asks, his voice falling to a whisper as he leans forward, lips brushing against Seongwoo’s ear.

“What?” Seongwoo replies.

“I always imagined my fingers were _yours_ , hyung,” Jihoon whispers, and Seongwoo can hear the smile in his voice. “ _Yours_ , hyung. Opening me up, stretching me nice and wide--” Jihoon shudders, squeezing his eyes closed, his shoulders trembling slightly as Seongwoo presses a third finger to his rim. “ _Yes,_ hyung,” he whispers, his head falling back, voice breathy.

Seongwoo slips his other hand up to Jihoon’s nape, pulling him in close for a sloppy kiss that’s more saliva and teeth than anything else. He presses his fingers along Jihoon’s walls, stroking them slowly, until his fingertips brush against something that all of a sudden causes Jihoon to pant desperately in his mouth, mewls falling from his lips.

“Oh god,” Jihoon murmurs, arching his back and grinding his hips down even harsher onto Seongwoo’s fingers, “ _right there_.”

So Seongwoo touches that spot again, and Jihoon is squeezing his eyes closed, body shaking as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, the skin blooming a bright red that makes Seongwoo lick his lips.

“God, yes,” Jihoon whispers, his eyes still closed, and his hips jerk around in tiny circles, trying to gain more of that stimulation from Seongwoo’s fingers. As he does so, his crotch repeatedly rubs against Seongwoo’s own erection, and Seongwoo purses his lips together, muffling low groans in his mouth.

“Please, hyung, more,” Jihoon whines as Seongwoo begins to scratch his fingernails against Jihoon’s sweet spot, sometimes digging his fingertips in, sometimes applying pressure and stroking slowly, and Jihoon’s breathing is getting more and more labored as the time passes. His neck and temples are completely covered with a sheen of sweat, and Seongwoo thinks the sight is quite pretty.

“Jihoonie, you’re so p--” he begins, but is interrupted by a voice.

“See? What’d I say? They’re so gay,” Jaehwan says as he walks into the room. Seongwoo glances over, and Jaehwan is sucking on a popsicle. It leaves his lips with a squelching, moist noise. Jaehwan’s sure one to be talking, Seongwoo thinks.

Minhyun trails behind Jaehwan with a laundry basket in his hands. “Could you guys please at least close the door when you, uh, have fun?” he asks.

“Blame Sungwoon-hyung, he forgot to,” Seongwoo replies.

“Oh, so you were still sexing each other with Sungwoon-hyung in the room,” Jaehwan notes, a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips.

Jihoon rolls his eyes at Jaehwan’s commentary. “Fuck off,” he says, sticking his tongue out.

“I’m assuming, since it appears Seongwoo’s fingers are in you, Jihoon--” Minhyun begins, squinting. Jihoon is not sure if Minhyun is squinting because he wants to see as little as possible or because he wants to get a better look. “--that your underwear is somewhere in the vicinity.”

“Yeah, you need it?” Jihoon replies.

Minhyun holds up the laundry basket in his hands. “Yup.”

Seongwoo reaches over next to him, moving his hand around underneath his blanket until he finds something that vaguely feels like a pair of boxers. “Oh yeah,” he notes, pulling the object out, “here they are.”

“Jaehwan, can you please get them? I really don’t want to touch them,” Minhyun asks.

“Sure,” Jaehwan replies nonchalantly. “Hey, Seongwoo-hyung, toss them here.”

With one swift movement of his arm, Seongwoo throws the pair of boxers across the room, and Jaehwan catches them while sucking on his popsicle. “Thanks,” he says. When he and Minhyun continue to stand in the room, Seongwoo and Jihoon frown at them. “Don’t mind us, we’re just getting the dirty laundry,” Jaehwan explains, noticing their expressions. He hums as he leans down, plucking pieces of clothing off of the floor.

“What the fuck,” Jihoon whispers, turning back to Seongwoo. “That just ruined the mood.”

“My fingers are still in you,” Seongwoo states. “What am I going to do with them?”

“They’re your _fingers_ , hyung,” Jihoon replies, matter-of-factly. “Are you going to continue fingering me or not?”

“Thought you maybe aren’t quite up to that anymore,” Seongwoo notes, shrugging. “‘Cause of those two.” He side-eyes Minhyun and Jaehwan.

“Your fingers are _still fucking in me_ ,” Jihoon mutters, “the hell else would I expect you to do?”

Well, Seongwoo’s dick is no longer raging hard. Still hard, but not _raging_ hard. “Why are you always the one receiving whenever we get interrupted?” he complains.

“Shut the fuck up and _hurry up_ ,” is Jihoon’s only reply.

Seongwoo rolls his eyes, flicking Jihoon on the forehead. When Jihoon begins to growl, he just pokes at the boy’s sweet spot, and Jihoon is sent into another mass of moaning and wet panting.

Half a minute later, Minhyun and Jaehwan close the door behind them. “That was quite a sight,” Jaehwan muses. “They’ve reached a new milestone in their relationship. Ass stuff.”

Minhyun scrunches his nose. “Don’t forget the other one. _Having sex while other people watch._ ”

“Oh, true that,” Jaehwan murmurs. He cracks a grin. “You were watching? I thought you didn’t want to see.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Minhyun growls, baring his teeth before he turns on his heel and walks away.

* * *

On a Sunday morning, Jihoon wiggles into his lap as he drinks coffee at the dining table.

“Why do you have to sit in Seongwoo’s lap?” Jisung asks as he dips his tea bag into a mug of boiling water.

“It’s comfy and Daehwi and Jinyoung took all the other chairs to build a blanket fort last night,” Jihoon replies. He uncurls Seongwoo’s fingers from the handle of his mug and brings the porcelain up to his own lips, taking a sip. “Gross,” he mutters, before turning around and staring down at Seongwoo, “why is there no cream and sugar?”

But before Seongwoo can reply, Jisung interrupts him. “There is another chair right next to you,” he points out, a hand cocked on his hip.

“That is the chair Daniel normally sits in,” Jihoon replies. “Do I want his cooties? No.”

“What,” Jisung begins, gasping with a palm placed over his heart. “ _Excuse me_ , Niel does _not_ have c--”

“He has cooties,” Jaehwan interrupts, walking into the room. He breezes past Jisung, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a wedge of cheese. “They’re just a different type of cooties than those two. Those two’ve got the super gay cooties.”

“Fuck you, Jaehwan,” Seongwoo sniffs, “you’re just jealous that you don’t have someone willing to go anywhere near your dick. And besides, it’s not gay if--”

Jaehwan snorts. “If it’s a brojob, I know,” he mutters. “But I saw you with your fingers _up Jihoon’s ass_ \--”

“You saw _what_?!” Jisung exclaims, his eyes widening into the size of saucers, “Oh my fucking god, Seongwoo--”

Jihoon sips on Seongwoo’s coffee casually, even though he complained about the bitterness earlier.

“And I know I’ve never really directly complained about your guys’ rompings,” Jaehwan continues. He takes a bite out of his wedge of cheese. “But please don’t tell me you were thinking of exchanging brojobs at this table, because for one, we _eat_ on it, and two, I am not a voyeur, so I don’t wish to see whatever the hell is going on between your dicks. Last time was a little bit frightening.”

“Jihoon, Seongwoo, I swear to god--” Jisung begins, pointing a finger at them and shaking it, but Seongwoo shakes his head.

“Calm your tits, hyung, we’re not about to do anything,” Seongwoo states, rolling his eyes.

“But if you even _think_ about anything--” Jisung growls, still shaking his finger, although Jihoon interrupts him.

“Hyung, can you please make more coffee?” he whines, holding up Seongwoo’s mug. “It’s empty.”

Jisung scowls, grabbing the brewing flask from the coffee machine and almost slamming it down on the counter.

Jaehwan snickers, taking another bite of cheese before skipping away.

* * *

Again, Seongwoo doesn’t even know how it happens (actually, he doesn’t know how anything happens -- at this point in his life, he’s just going along for the ride and hoping that his panties don’t end up in a twist somehow).

See, the thing is, Seongwoo is a dumbass (even though he doesn’t exactly realize it), and Jihoon is this little shrimp of a kid that gets whatever the fuck he wants because he’s Jihoon, and that includes tugging along dumbasses like Seongwoo, especially when Seongwoo’s at his most vulnerable point -- aka horny as hell.

Seongwoo’s learned that Jihoon really does indeed like Butt Stuff™, so he supposes that’s what happens a lot now; well, short of Seongwoo actually putting his dick in Jihoon’s ass -- now that’s a little too forward-thinking for a rock like Seongwoo, and for now he just enjoys watching Jihoon squirm around in his lap just from small movements of his fingers.

Or, in this case, his tongue. Jihoon once randomly said, while Seongwoo was leaning over him, digging his fingers into the inside of Jihoon’s thigh, “Hey, lick me.”

“What?” Seongwoo had replied, and then he dipped his head down and licked Jihoon’s cheek. His face was salty. Gross.

“What the fuck, mate?” Jihoon immediately blurted out, smashing Seongwoo’s nose with a palm as he pushed his face away.

Seongwoo promptly choked, his source of air being cut off abruptly as he spluttered around the bitter taste of Jihoon’s hand. “What’d you do that for?!” he exclaimed once he shook his head to clear his airways.

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “You dumbass, I didn’t mean lick my face,” he sighed, “I mean lick me _down there_ , idiot.”

“Wait--” Seongwoo began, “you mean _your ass_?”

So Jihoon just placed the flat of his foot on Seongwoo’s shoulder ( _Oh wow,_ Seongwoo had thought, _I didn’t realize how flexible he was_ ), pushing him down gently. “ _Yes_ , hyung, I mean my ass.”

Seongwoo isn’t going to lie, Jihoon makes even better nice and funny noises when Seongwoo’s licking around his rim -- the taste isn’t too bad as well, especially in combination with that birthday cake-flavored lube that he stole from Daniel’s nightstand.

But somehow, today, Jihoon has a different idea.

“Hey,” he says, pushing up on an elbow and threading his fingers through Seongwoo’s hair to pull his head back up.

“What?” Seongwoo asks. At this point in his life, he thinks that’s probably the one word that makes up a good half of the vocabulary he uses when he’s with Jihoon.

“Can I sit on you?” Jihoon asks. “On your face, I mean.”

“On my… face?” Seongwoo murmurs, knitting his eyebrows together, as if he were trying to mathematically calculate how that’d work out in his head.

“Yes, I want to sit on your face,” Jihoon replies, flatly. His expression falls to something void of any emotion, which is quite a deviation from how he looked only less than a minute ago. His face is still red, sweat pasting hair to his forehead, lips swollen and bitten, eyes dark and oily. Seongwoo thinks it’s a little oxymoronic.

And then, it dawns on him. His face contorts from an expression of realization to one of absolute and utter shock. “Oh my god--” he begins, and it all makes sense to him now. Jihoon, that brat, had been leading him on, because his goal this whole time was to _murder_ Seongwoo. “Are you trying to _kill_ me, you bastard?!”

“I-- _what_?” Jihoon responds, frowning. “The hell did you draw that conclusion from?”

“You’re trying to convince me to let you sit on my face so you can _suffocate me_ with your ass, of course!” Seongwoo exclaims, and he curls back his lips, about to scramble off of the bed, because how could he be so _stupid_ \--

Well, until Jihoon slaps him on the cheek, a sharp _smack!_ resounding through the air.

Seongwoo pauses, sitting back on his heels, dumbfounded. His eyes are unbelievably wide, and he stares down at Jihoon, who looks nothing short of absolutely irritated and exasperated.

“If I killed you, who else would suck my dick? Who else would finger me? Who else would rim me?” Jihoon snorts, rolling his eyes. “Daniel? Jisung? Jaehwan? Minhyun? Sungwoon? _Please_. The first three are sexual deviants, and I don’t even think Minhyun and Sungwoon have touched any dicks besides their own. I can’t believe you’re so _stupid_.”

When he receives no response from Seongwoo, his expression and voice soften slightly. “I asked you if I could sit on your face because I _literally want to sit on your face_ for no other reason than to sit on your face.”

“Oh,” Seongwoo murmurs, “oh.” Wow, he is stupid. Today he learned.

“So, yeah, can I?” Jihoon asks.

“Oh, okay,” Seongwoo immediately replies. Actually, he’s not really sure if he’s okay with that idea at all, but for some reason, he just said yes anyways.

“Awesome.” Jihoon grins. He sits all the way up, nudging Seongwoo in the shoulder. “Lay down,” he says, when Seongwoo doesn’t move. The latter falls backwards onto the bed with a soft _whump_ , and Jihoon climbs over him, sitting on Seongwoo’s abdomen with his palms braced on his chest. “So, because I _actually_ don’t plan to suffocate you and kill you, if you feel like you need air just tap on my thigh three times. Okay?”

“O-Okay,” Seongwoo shakily replies, and Jihoon smiles. Jihoon leans down, briefly kissing Seongwoo before saying, “Thanks,” and scooting forward, placing his palms on the mattress above Seongwoo’s head, setting his knees on either side of Seongwoo’s face. He slowly lowers his hips, and Seongwoo’s hands immediately come to rest on his ass cheeks, pulling them apart. Jihoon’s breath hitches as he feels the tip of a wet tongue poke at his rim, and he lets out a big sigh as he finally lets himself sink down all the way. His neck cranes upwards, and he closes his eyes.

“ _Yes_ ,” he hisses, as Seongwoo’s tongue pushes through the ring of muscle, beginning to lap around. Seongwoo puckers his lips, pressing and sucking a kiss onto Jihoon’s rim, his mouth making subtle, vaguely wet noises as he does so. It’s not long before Jihoon is rolling his hips, the small of his back trembling, his thighs shaking as he presses them to the sides of Seongwoo’s face. Loud moans spill from his lips as he does so, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he drowns himself in the sensation.

Seongwoo taps on his thigh thrice a short time later, and Jihoon gingerly lifts up his hips.

“G-God,” Seongwoo huffs, shaking his head, his hands still digging to Jihoon’s ass cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks, glancing over his shoulder. Seongwoo pants underneath him.

“Yeah,” Seongwoo replies, his voice slightly raspy, “just give me a few moments.”

And then several seconds later, when Jihoon sinks down again, he arches his back, stretching out his arms in front of him, and whines, high and needy, because Seongwoo is now using his teeth to slightly graze across Jihoon’s sensitive rim as his tongue probes around inside. _This is the best decision I’ve ever made_ , Jihoon thinks.

Unbeknownst to both of them, as Daniel is walking by, he stops in front of the door, frowning. “Hyung,” he begins, and Jisung looks up at him.

“Want to hear?” Jisung asks, turning his head, one palm braced against the door.

“The first time was okay because we were all curious about it, but the second time around is getting kind of creepy,” Daniel states, still frowning.

Jisung shrugs. “It’s my responsibility as a leader to make sure all of the members are okay,” he reasons, “and besides, I’m quite sure I heard Jihoonie ask Seongwoo to allow him to _sit on his face_.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “Oh wow, I didn’t know Seongwoo was into getting suffocated and stuff,” he murmurs. “Whatever.” He cracks a small smile, sighing at his hyung. “Have fun, hyung. I’m going down to the studio for some extra practice.”

Jisung waves him off with a hand, too engrossed in the information being received through his ear pressed against the door.

* * *

While they’re watching TV together one night, Minhyun walks over and stands in front of the TV, his phone held up to his face.

“Hyung!” Jihoon whines, “Please move, you’re blocking the view!”

Minhyun doesn’t reply. Instead, he seems to be tapping on his phone before flipping the device horizontally and bringing it in closer to his face.

“Oh my god, Minhyun, are you about to take a ph--” Seongwoo begins, but the click of a shutter interrupts him. “What the fuck, mate?!” he exclaims, “Why’d you just take a picture of us?”

“It’s going in the family photo album,” Jisung replies. Both Seongwoo and Jihoon glance up, and lo and behold, there’s Jisung leaning over them, his hands placed on the top of the sofa.

“What family photo album?” Seongwoo asks, frowning. “As far as I know, none of us are related--” he pauses, turning his head to face Jihoon, who curiously returns his gaze. “Wait, you’re not related to Woojin, right? _Right_?”

Jihoon snorts. “Of course not, I'd think I’d know if I were related to him,” he replies.

“As your leader, the oldest, and your grandpa--” Jisung begins, “--it’s my duty to document the milestones in all of my grandchildren’s lives and start their own family photo albums for them. That includes things like the first day of school, first crush on noona, first time driving, and--” Jisung raises an eyebrow, “--first loves -- the first time you meet your husband or wife.”

“...What?” Seongwoo begins, at the same time that Jihoon asks, “Are you implying that we’re getting married?”

Jisung doesn’t give him a direct answer. “Well,” he begins, putting on his old and wise hyung voice, “I don’t know when this whole debacle began, but I’m quite sure it’s been only a month or so, and Seongwoo let you _sit on his face_ , Jihoon.”

Jihoon begins to sputter. “Wh-- How-- Why-- _what_?”

“That’s not a normal pace of advancement,” Jisung continues.

“Yeah, it isn’t,” Jaehwan chimes in, appearing from the doorway, “you guys are clearly engulfed in extremely gay love.”

Seongwoo sighs into his palm. “I swear to god, Jaehwan,” he begins, his voice muffled by his hand, “it’s just sex, and it’s not gay if it’s a b--”

“Jihoon _sat_ on your fucking face!” Jaehwan cries, “That’s not a blowjob or a handjob or even a rimjob! He _sat_ on your face! On _your face_!”

“And look at you two now,” Minhyun adds, his voice calm and level. Somehow, he seems to be the calmest out of all of them. “Cuddling on the couch, underneath the same blanket, a bowl of popcorn between you guys while you guys watch a foreign romcom. Is that not something couples do?”

“We are _not_ cuddling,” Seongwoo states, his voice firm, eyebrows knitted together.

“Yeah, sure,” Minhyun replies, rolling his eyes. “Tell me that lump over where your lap is is not Jihoon’s thighs thrown over yours, Seongwoo.”

“It’s not!” Seongwoo cries.

“Okay, then why do I see Jihoon’s toes sticking out from underneath the blanket to your left, Seongwoo?” Minhyun asks. Yeah, sure enough, when Seongwoo glances over, there _are_ Jihoon’s toes on the cushion next to him.

“Hey, Minhyun, let me see the photo,” Jisung hums, beckoning Minhyun over with a wave of his hand. Minhyun walks over, showing Jisung the photo on his phone screen. They both stare down at it critically, as if they are analyzing a new specimen. Jaehwan wanders over a moment later, sidling up to Minhyun’s side and craning his neck to get a view.

“Show it to them,” Jaehwan says.

Minhyun leans down, sticking his phone between Jihoon and Seongwoo, who both reluctantly look at it.

“See?” Jisung begins. “Look at you two. _Cuddling_ on the couch.”

“Jihoon _sat on your face_ , Seongwoo,” Minhyun says.

“He drank all your coffee while sitting in your lap in the morning,” Jaehwan adds.

There’s several long moments of thick silence before anyone speaks.

Jihoon slowly raises his head and stares at Seongwoo. Seongwoo returns his gaze, albeit with a little bit of anxiousness, which is mirrored in Jihoon’s expression.

“Hyung,” Jihoon begins.

“What?” Seongwoo asks.

“Hyung, I think we’re gay,” Jihoon states, flatly.

“...Oh,” Seongwoo murmurs.

There’s a long, deep sigh, a _thud_ as something hits the carpet, and a sharp _smack_ from skin hitting skin behind them.

Both of them turn around.

Minhyun had dropped his phone on the ground, and he is now pacing back and forth, his fingers threaded together and resting on the back of his head. Jisung lets out another sigh, rubbing both his palms into his face. Jaehwan faces the wall, both hands on his cheeks. He leans his head forward, and his forehead thumps against the wall.

When Sungwoon walks in, he flies into a panic at seeing three of his bandmates in states of absolute and utter distress. “You two!” he cries, pointing a finger at Seongwoo and Jihoon on the couch, “What the hell did you two do?!”

“...I admitted we’re gay,” Jihoon murmurs softly.

Sungwoon freezes. “You--” he begins, his voice cracking off, and then he flies out of the room. “Daniel!” he shouts, as he runs down the hallway, “They did it! They admitted it! I won, you bastard! Where’s my money now?!”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, sighing. “I hate them,” he mutters.

“Same,” Seongwoo replies. “Anyways, Minhyun’s not in front of the TV anymore.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon murmurs. He shifts his position, instead choosing to fold his knees and tuck them on top of Seongwoo’s lap, leaning his cheek on Seongwoo’s shoulder as he does so. They both grab for popcorn, and Seongwoo slaps Jihoon’s wrist away when he sees the latter’s hand reaching for the bowl. Jihoon scowls at him, but they both laugh the moment after.


End file.
